


Coincidentally Cancelled

by jimingyu



Series: Coincidences [2]
Category: SF9 (Band)
Genre: Complete, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, fluff with the tiniest bit of angst, some descriptions of mild violence/anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 09:42:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17221547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jimingyu/pseuds/jimingyu
Summary: Hwiyoung’s lab actually was cancelled. It’s just a coincidence that he ended up at Taeyang and Seokwoo’s place of residence. Minus Seokwoo and plus his aching crush on Taeyang. It’s fine, though. Hwiyoung is fine.(or: what other events transpired while Seokwoo was at the grocery store.)





	Coincidentally Cancelled

**Author's Note:**

> hello!!  
> as promised, here's the hwitae side of this au!  
> pls feel free to leave me some comments on what you'd like to ~possibly~ see next out of this au & if you've enjoyed it so far! 
> 
> tysm for reading! ily ♡
> 
> ~ cj ♡

[-]

If you asked Hwiyoung why he’s taking a 3rd-year-level biology lab as a 1st year, he would tell you that it’s because his ambitions are a bit bigger than his brain capacity. That’s the unfortunate truth, and he’d spent the entire first semester convincing himself of it, so he’ll be damned if he gives up on it now. Despite the constant encouragement from the group of friends who adopted him within the first week of classes, Hwiyoung still feels dread pool in his stomach every Monday. The first few times, he thought he was constipated; he would have rather been constipated than dreadful of his biology lab. His older friends were of absolutely no help during situations such as this one; they were all brilliant and knew exactly what they were doing with their lives, their classes, everything. Knowing that hurt Hwiyoung a little bit. It was an aching pain at the base of his spine that he'd become accustomed to - like he'd been sitting hunched over his desk for too long. He could ignore it pretty easily.

The only person he was really comfortable confiding in was Taeyang. Hwiyoung knew Taeyang in high school, but he’s nearly positive that Taeyang knew nothing of him. Hwiyoung simply admired him from afar, watched the adoring crowds surround him after pep rallies as he stayed on the outskirts of Taeyang’s popularity. He was afraid to infringe upon that - afraid that Taeyang was the “untouchable” kind of popular. But then, Taeyang graduated two whole years before Hwiyoung did, and he finally realized something: Taeyang, with all of the grace he possessed from having complete control over his body, was just as nervous as everyone else to cross the stage and receive his diploma. He was afraid of losing his balance and falling just like the rest of the graduates. After that, Taeyang wasn’t something otherworldly anymore; he was something tangible, something _real_ , and it had been so long since Hwiyoung had seen someone real in high school. He’d missed his chance with Taeyang in high school, but he was determined not to miss it in college. Not that he chose what college he would attend based upon where Taeyang went. No, Hwiyoung would never let something so trivial influence such an important decision. Taeyang just happened to be a bonus.

And now, Taeyang is so painstakingly real that Hwiyoung sometimes finds himself taking a step back just to make sure he’s still there. Taeyang glistens like the sun, and Hwiyoung is constantly afraid he’ll get burnt if he stays close for too long. Usually, Taeyang is the one pulling him into his embrace, knocking their foreheads together, tangling their fingers, and it confuses Hwiyoung. Essentially, he has no choice but to be perpetually close to Taeyang. It’s not a problem, but it’s still something that keeps Hwiyoung awake some nights.

At first, Hwiyoung associated the feeling he gets whenever Taeyang touches him with the sinking feeling that comes with walking to the science building on campus. It’s similar, but definitely not the same. He doesn’t dread Taeyang touching him the way he dreads going to his lab every Monday. No - he _craves_ Taeyang’s touch, and that realization hurts more than any burn Hwiyoung could possibly sustain from standing too close to his sun.

Even still, all the encouragement in the world couldn’t stop Hwiyoung from dreading this damn biology lab. He’s emotionally constipated enough to kill a normal person, but the ingrained feeling of self-loathing always hits him the hardest while walking up this fucking hill. It’s become a routine at this point: walk up the hill, think about turning around, hate existing, enter the science building, and deal with it. It’s a cycle that Hwiyoung is going to be stuck in until this semester is over. Christmas break can not come fast enough.

[-]

Hwiyoung’s phone keeps buzzing in his pocket, but he doesn’t care enough to see who it is. Hiking up the paved hill to the science building is far more taxing than it should be, and pulling his phone out of his pocket would waste precious energy. Hwiyoung does not have time for that.

With one last huff of breath, he makes it to the top of the hill and finally makes his way into the building. Oddly enough, the rest of his lab group is nowhere to be seen. Hwiyoung pulls his phone from his pocket to check the time, and sees that he’s a little early. He also sees two messages from Taeyang and an email from his professor:

 

**_Dear students,_ **  
**_I apologize for the short notice, but I have to cancel our lab this evening. I’ll explain in class on Wednesday._ **  
**_Best,_ **  
**_Dr. Henson_ **

 

“Oh, thank _fuck_.” Hwiyoung didn’t mean to say that outloud, but, oh well. This building has heard him say much worse with more substantial witnesses than the leather couches around the lobby. One less evening of being embarrassed is the best way Hwiyoung can think of to end his Monday. He turns back towards the paved pathway, practically skipping with joy, and checks Taeyang’s messages on the way down:

 **Sunshine** **:)**  
_**wanna come over when your lab is finished?**_  
_**4:36PM**_  
_**i have snacks ;)**_  
_**4:42PM**_

Okay, maybe Hwiyoung is weak for Taeyang, but he’s mostly hungry, and Taeyang always has his favorite snacks. Hwiyoung smiles, and types a message back:

_**my lab was cancelled!!!!!! :D do you mind if i come over now?? :)** _  
_**5:07PM** _

Hwiyoung watches the three little dots pop up at the bottom of the screen and waits.

_**get ur ass over here then!!!!!** _  
_**5:08PM** _

As usual, Hwiyoung does as he’s told.

 

[-]

 

When Hwiyoung first spent time with Taeyang in his dorm, he was terrified. Everything was neat and tidy, it smelled nice, and Hwiyoung was suddenly very aware of his living situation and how gross it was in comparison to Taeyang and Seokwoo’s. He learned very quickly that Taeyang is not as clean as he would have everyone think, and neither is Seokwoo. The latter is apparently very good at faking having his shit together, and Hwiyoung has come to admire him for that. Taeyang, on the other hand, is a habitual Closet-Shover: someone who shoves things into their closet and leaves it there until it becomes an annoyance. Hwiyoung would’ve never noticed Taeyang’s bad habit if he didn’t open his closet. Unfortunately, he did, and his facade came crashing down. Literally.

 

Now, Taeyang doesn’t even bother to clean up when Hwiyoung is around; the most he does is move things off his bed to make room for him to sit. It’s the same now: Hwiyoung knocks softly on the door, mindful of the neighbors who have filed noise complaints about them multiple times, and Taeyang greets him with a bright smile, nudging two pairs of shoes away from the door. Taeyang pulls him into a tight hug, wrapping his arms around Hwiyoung’s backpack and everything. “I’ve missed you, Hwi! I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages,” Hwiyoung can’t help the smile tugging at his cheeks. “It’s only been, like, three days, Tae.” he mumbles, securing his arms around Taeyang’s waist.

“Three days too long. You’re not allowed to go home on Friday’s anymore.” Taeyang is pouting, and somewhere in the back of Hwiyoung’s mind, he resolves to never go home on Friday again. He’ll never admit that, though. Not outloud. “Fine, fine,” and that definitely was _not_ him admitting it. Taeyang just grins and drags him towards his bedroom. Hwiyoung drops his backpack and pulls his shoes off somewhere between the front door and Taeyang’s bedroom, but he knows the latter doesn’t mind. Hwiyoung is pretty sure he could shit on the floor and Taeyang wouldn’t mind, but that’s not important.

As usual, Taeyang’s room smells like the vanilla candles he always smuggles in past their dorms security guards. He only burns them occasionally, and references a non-existent brand of air freshener whenever someone asks. One of the candles is lit now, the one next to Taeyang’s computer on his desk. Hwiyoung assumes he was studying - two books are open on both sides of his computer, and a notebook is laid over the keyboard. “What are you studying for?” Hwiyoung asks, making his way over to Taeyang’s desk to look at his work. In the notebook, several paragraphs of notes are carefully laid out beside figures of a person in motion, marked with arrows and highlights in certain places. “It’s for my movement class,” Taeyang sighs, runs his hand through his hair, and picks up the notebook. “I need to take a break from it, though. I’m starting to get a headache from looking at my computer for so long.” Taeyang is smiling, but Hwiyoung doesn’t like the tightness in it.

“Do you want to watch a movie or something? I think we can afford to waste a couple hours.” Taeyang’s smile shifts into something more genuine at Hwiyoung’s suggestion. “Yeah,” he shuts his laptop, and tucks the books back onto the shelf above his desk. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

[-]

Instead of a movie, they end up watching some drama that Hwiyoung has never heard of. He hasn’t been following the plot very closely, and could probably only name two characters if someone asked him, but he doesn’t care. Hwiyoung is half asleep at this point, and Taeyang is curled up against his chest with a bowl of popcorn sitting in his lap, the television screen reflecting off his eyes. Hwiyoung would much rather watch Taeyang than watch a drama, so, that’s what he does. At least, that’s what he’s been doing. Taeyang hasn’t caught him yet, but he keeps scooting closer and closer, and Hwiyoung is sure he knows that he isn’t paying attention. Hwiyoung is always extremely aware of Taeyang’s presence, but it’s times like this that make him aware that he is aware of it. It feels almost meditative, the way Hwiyoung is concentrating on every point his body is coming into contact with Taeyang’s. It would probably be a little creepy if he explained it to anyone because it’s a little creepy even to him.

Because of his intense focus, Hwiyoung flinches when Taeyang threads their fingers together. Hwiyoung’s arm had been resting over Taeyang’s shoulders for awhile, - it was a natural position for them - but he hadn’t realized that his hand was twitching. “Your hands are cold,” Taeyang mutters, breathing into Hwiyoung’s hands and rubbing them against his own. “My hands are always cold. It’s because I’m cold.” He’s joking; he’s always joking with Taeyang, but Taeyang is never joking with him. “No, you’re not,” he says, and he brings Hwiyoung’s hands closer to his face. Hwiyoung doesn’t notice that he’s holding his breath until his chest starts to hurt. He lets out a breath as Taeyang breathes warm air into his palms. “You’ve never been cold. Not even in high school when you had every reason to be,” Hwiyoung stiffens. Taeyang didn’t even know him in high school - why would he say that?

Hwiyoung had never brought up anything that happened in high school; he didn’t think Taeyang knew, or cared to know, how terrible his high school years were. It’s a burden he typically doesn’t share with people simply because he doesn’t want them to carry what isn’t theirs. “What do you mean?” Hwiyoung asks, pulling his hand out of Taeyang's grasp. Taeyang reaches for Hwiyoung, watches him pull away, and sighs.

“I've been meaning to talk to you about this for awhile.”

“Talk to me about what? High school? You didn't even know me in high school, Tae.”

“Because you wouldn't let me know you!”

“That was on purpose!”

Hwiyoung hates the way Taeyang flinches away when he raises his voice, hates the tears climbing up in his throat, hates the emotion pooling in his gut. He hates arguing with Taeyang more than anything, but the older boy never really listens unless Hwiyoung is firm with him. But this of all things, and now of all times. Hwiyoung is at a loss for words, and he knows he's going to start crying if Taeyang does the thing he always does: just is himself, and is obnoxiously caring and understanding.

Unfortunately for Hwiyoung, that's just the way Taeyang is. His face softens, and Hwiyoung feels like he's suffocating.

“You didn't have to hide from me. You don't have to hide from me now, either.”

Hwiyoung just stares down at his hands, biting into his bottom lip to hold back the tears that are determined to claw their way up his throat. Taeyang knows. But how could he know? Hwiyoung never told anyone what happened to him in high school, so there’s no way Taeyang could know all the details. He never let anyone see his emotional scars, his physical scars - he never let anyone _see_ him.

“Hwi, look at me.” He can’t. He can’t because Taeyang will look at him like he’s breaking, he’ll try to put him back together, and Hwiyoung doesn’t want Taeyang to cut himself on one of his pieces. “No, Tae.” His voice isn’t shaking, and he’s surprised, but he still hates the tone of it - hates how emotionless it sounds even though he’s filled to the brim with nothing but emotion. “Please.” And Taeyang never asks him for anything, so he does because Taeyang is asking.

Hwiyoung couldn’t explain the look in Taeyang’s eyes if someone asked with a gun to his head. It’s nothing that he’s never seen before, but it’s everything (gentleness, fear, anxiety, love, and so much genuine care that Hwiyoung can barely comprehend it), and Hwiyoung doesn’t understand how Taeyang can be so openly expressive. How is he not afraid to let people know what he’s thinking? Hwiyoung can’t answer, so, he sucks in a breath and waits for Taeyang to speak, forces the tears to stay in his throat. But, Taeyang doesn’t say anything, and that’s the most confusing part. He just lifts his hand slowly, and Hwiyoung watches his face as his hand comes to rest against his cheek, thumb brushing under his eye. Hwiyoung squeezes his eyes shut, forcing himself to stop looking at Taeyang because it’s too much. He hears more than feels Taeyang leaning closer to him, and can’t stop his body from tensing.

“It doesn't change the way I see you, Hwi. You're still the strong, beautiful boy I met when you first came here,” Taeyang is close, he's _so_ close, and Hwiyoung wants to reach out and hold him, wants to make him stop talking, but he can't. Once Taeyang decides he's going to do something, Hwiyoung knows he's going to do it the best he can. “It was the same in high school. I admired you from a distance, and waited until the time was right to introduce myself to you. But you never let me,” Taeyang's free hand comes to rest on Hwiyoung's thigh, and he didn't think his body could tense any further, but it manages. “You never let me, Hwi. You always ran away whenever I came near you. I thought you were scared of me for the longest time. Eventually, I gave up,” Taeyang leans closer, rests their foreheads together, and Hwiyoung can feel his breath against his lips, and it's too much.

“And then you came to me. I never thought I'd see you again, and then you were just here, and I was amazed. I was so happy that I was getting a second chance to be a part of your life. I never expected you to approach me first,” Hwiyoung remembers that day perfectly. He remembers the fear of rejection, the pure anxiety pulsing through his veins, and he can't believe he almost talked himself out of sitting down next to Taeyang that day. Taeyang is smiling, - Hwiyoung can feel it - and he wants nothing more than to open his eyes and watch the smile bloom on his face. Still, he keeps his eyes closed and just listens.

“You sat down beside me, and I was so surprised that I could barely even speak. I hadn't seen you up close since you moved here, and I was so stunned that I couldn't speak,” Stunned? Why would Taeyang be stunned because of him? “Your hair had gotten so long, and you'd grown up so much in the two years I hadn't see you, and I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe that the beautiful boy my heart wanted to protect in high school turned into this. Into someone my heart wanted for itself,” No, there's no way. Hwiyoung's eyes fly open, he pulls away from Taeyang, but not too far because his hand is still clutching Hwiyoung's pants. “What does that mean?”

Hwiyoung should've kept his eyes closed. Taeyang is just too much, he's always too much, and Hwiyoung can't put words to the expression on his face and it hurts. He can always put words to things, - that’s what the words are there for - but Taeyang always manages to make him question how expansive his vocabulary really is. If he can’t put words to the emotions Taeyang is showing him, then how many words does he really know? There can’t be that many, not that there could be that many expressions Taeyang can make either, but -

“Hwi, you’re not listening to me.” Taeyang is squishing his face again, and Hwiyoung nearly loses it - he nearly drops the entire “tough guy” act in favor of letting Taeyang baby him, letting him squeeze his face and kiss his cheeks. Hwiyoung is in serious trouble. “I’m listening,” he definitely just missed everything that Taeyang said. “No, you’re thinking, which is your first mistake. Nothing good ever comes out of that,” Classic Taeyang: using humour and well-placed insults to break Hwiyoung from his stupor. Hwiyoung pulls Taeyang’s hands away from his cheeks and settles them in his lap instead, lacing their fingers together. He feels the air shift, feels Taeyang tense, and that’s not normal. Taeyang is always relaxed, always fluid, always ready for the next movement. He’s never stoic, never still, never anything less than beaming, and never tense. Hwiyoung gives it a moment, waits until he feels Taeyang’s fingers loosen in his grip, and gathers his confidence to speak. He has very little confidence at the moment, so he knows whatever he says might come out completely wrong, but that’s a chance he’s willing to take to break the intensity of this moment.

“I’ve always admired you, Tae,” he doesn’t let go of Taeyang’s fingers, needs to ground himself on something, but he does hear him suck in a breath. He can feel the “Why?” sitting at the tip of Taeyang’s tongue because he’s not aware of how absolutely breathtaking he is. Even with every aspect of Hwiyoung’s life completely overwhelmed by Taeyang, he still doesn’t realize how much he means to him. So, Hwiyoung just smiles, and decides to tell him. “I used to stand in the corner of the gym during pep rallies at school and watch you perform with your dance team. I told myself after every performance that I was going to talk to you afterwards, to tell you how amazing you were, to tell you that you inspired me to dance for a little while before I realized I have no coordination,” Hwiyoung pauses because Taeyang is laughing, but it’s a sincere laugh, and he doesn’t mind it one bit. It only lasts for a moment, then Taeyang is back to listening intently, hanging onto every word that leaves Hwiyoung’s lips, and he sighs. “Why didn’t you? Talk to me, I mean.” Now, it’s Hwiyoung’s turn to sigh. “I was never brave enough. You were always surrounded by people, always being praised for your performance by people who mattered. I just - I wasn’t one of those people, Tae.” Hwiyoung is back to where he started - not being able to meet Taeyang’s eyes because he’s afraid of what he’ll see. He should’ve known that Taeyang wouldn’t let that slide.

“Hwiyoung,” Oh, _fuck_. Taeyang never says his full name. He’s in so much trouble, oh god. “Listen very carefully,” Taeyang laces their fingers, presses their palms together, and pushes Hwiyoung onto his back on the bed. Like this, Hwiyoung can’t not look Taeyang in the eye, and he totally planned that. This just creates a new problem for Hwiyoung: Taeyang having his entire lean body pressed against his, his hands pinned down on either side of his head, and Taeyang looking at him like he’s going to _devour_ _him_. Hwiyoung’s mind is about to shut down at this point because this is definitely _not_ something friends do. “Are you listening?” he nods, a little frantic for some reason. Taeyang grins, and Hwiyoung has to stop a shiver from coursing down his spine. This isn’t good for his heart. “Good,” Taeyang's eyes are dark, - they're always dark, the same shade as Hwiyoung's favorite dark chocolate - and it's new. It's something Hwiyoung has truly never seen in Taeyang before. As a matter of fact, he's never seen it before, period. But Taeyang is still staring down at him, eyes hooded, fingers tucked between his own, and Hwiyoung can feel his body temperature rising, but there's no way he can escape. He's not sure he wants to escape.

“I don't think you understand,” Taeyang pauses, ducks even closer so his lips are right against Hwiyoung's ear. They're alone, but he's whispering, and it's so terribly _intimate_ that Hwiyoung finds himself groaning. “I don't think you understand just how much you matter. Not only to me,” His lips brush against Hwiyoung's earlobe, and Hwiyoung jolts because he's _dreamed_ about this, _wanted_ this for so long, and _something_ is about to happen. Taeyang's lips are right against his ear, but he can't focus on the words leaving them. There's too much for him to _feel_ , and not enough time to listen. But Taeyang makes him listen - he always makes him listen. “You are important to every single person in your life. You just so happen to be specifically important to me, Hwiyoung,” Taeyang is nosing against his neck, brushing his lips over the skin as lightly as humanly possible, and Hwiyoung is convinced this is too sensual to be strictly platonic. “And, I’m not gonna lie, the fact that it’s taken you so long to realize that is a little sad to me,” That catches Hwiyoung off guard - that his own self-conscious thoughts have caused Taeyang grief. But it isn’t Taeyang’s fault; he’s perfect, _too_ perfect, and Hwiyoung doesn’t deserve him, doesn’t deserve _anyone_ -

“ _Relax_ ,” Sometimes, Hwiyoung swears that Taeyang can read his mind. Or maybe he can just read his expression as well as he says he can. Either way, Taeyang has removed his fingers from Hwiyoung’s right hand in favor of moving to make small circles on his wrist. “I don’t mean that I’m sad because you haven’t picked up on something - I didn’t intend for you to pick up on it just yet. I’m sad because you think so lowly of yourself,” Taeyang is gazing down at him with a look so heartbreakingly sweet in his eyes that Hwiyoung thinks he might cry. Maybe Taeyang really can read his mind.

“You think that you don’t deserve anything or anyone, and that breaks my heart, Hwi. You’ve been through too much in your life, and you never learned to love yourself along the way,” Taeyang pauses, brushes a lock of hair out of Hwiyoung’s face, and it’s so gentle. “You’re still listening, right?” Hwiyoung smiles, nods, closes his eyes, and just feels Taeyang all around him. Hwiyoung never thought that love was something you can physically feel, but here Taeyang is, enveloping his senses in his love. Hwiyoung has never been so happy to be so overwhelmed. “Good,” Taeyang returns the smile, but his face returns to something serious soon after. “I need you to trust me when I say what I’m about to say, okay? Don’t question it just yet - just listen. Can you do that for me?” The hand stroking up and down Hwiyoung’s cheek is back, and he welcomes the warmth of Taeyang resting his weight against his body. He feels safe, protected, secure. Like no one can hurt him.

Hwiyoung feels Taeyang’s lungs expand with a deep breath, and he opens his eyes to watch what Taeyang will say. He pushes back one last strand of hair and places the lightest kiss on Hwiyoung’s forehead. It’s not an uncommon gesture between the two of them, but it is when they’re in this position. Hwiyoung watches the flush rise in Taeyang’s cheeks as he takes on last breath before speaking.

“Hwiyoung,” he whispers, and his full name still hits Hwiyoung differently when it’s coming from Taeyang. Hwiyoung nods, encouraging him to continue. “If you’ll give me a chance, I’d like to show you how loved you truly are. Right now. Just us.” Taeyang won’t meet his eyes, and Hwiyoung realizes that he’s nervous; Hwiyoung is making him nervous. That’s practically unheard of when it comes to their relationship. The blush blooming across Taeyang’s cheeks, the way his breath is stuttering against Hwiyoung’s chest, the scent of vanilla in the air that he has come to associate so closely with Taeyang - everything about this moment gives Hwiyoung the courage to consider Taeyang’s words as the truth. He’s not sure if he fully believes what Taeyang is saying, but he’s willing to be convinced if this means what he thinks it means.

“Tae,” Hwiyoung is whispering because he's afraid to break the stillness of this moment. Taeyang hears him anyway, and looks up to meet his eyes. Hwiyoung waits until Taeyang has finished searching his face, found what he's looking for. Hwiyoung can’t help but grin at what he's about to ask. “Does that mean you're gonna kiss me?” And Taeyang's lips split into the most stunning smile that Hwiyoung has ever seen in his life. It's a yes - he _knows_ it's a yes - but he wants to hear Taeyang say it. He waits for Taeyang to shift his weight slightly, and settle his palms on each side of Hwiyoung's face. Waiting, waiting, always waiting for Taeyang. Now that he has him here, right in front of him, flushed and a little shy, Hwiyoung is _tired_ of waiting. Now, he can finally do something about it.

He doesn't wait for Taeyang. Instead, he leans himself forward, hands set firmly on Taeyang's cheeks, and kisses him the way he's wanted to for years. It feels like Hwiyoung has been waiting for centuries, lifetimes, millennia to have Taeyang's lips smile against his own, but it's been so worth it just to to experience this moment. Taeyang is smiling the whole time, his thumbs roaming over the skin of Hwiyoung's cheeks, and it feels like a dream. It feels like the most realistic dream Hwiyoung has ever had, but it's most certainly a dream. The real Taeyang would never kiss him like this - the real Taeyang would never hold him so gently, would never kiss him like he's trying to put him back together. The real Taeyang would never kiss him, _period_ , and Hwiyoung realizes there must be something wrong. Taeyang is transferring schools, he was recruited to perform with a travelling group, he has a terminal illness, he -

He's gone.

No, he's only pulled away. Hwiyoung slips his hands underneath Taeyang's shirt, and, yes, he's still there. He's still there, and he's wiping away the tears that Hwiyoung didn't even realize were falling. After each one is wiped away with the pad of his thumb, Taeyang chases after them with his lips, and Hwiyoung is too warm, something is fluttering beneath his skin, and he can feel so much.

“It's okay, love. I'm right here - I'm not going anywhere, I promise,” Taeyang sits up and pulls Hwiyoung with him to lean against his chest, his fingernails still digging into the skin of Taeyang's hips. “I didn't expect you to cry, but I can't say that I'm surprised,” Taeyang is running his hands through Hwiyoung's hair the way he always does, and it just makes him want to cry _more_. “W-why do you say that?” Taeyang chuckles deep in his chest, and Hwiyoung presses himself closer to the rumbling against his ear. “Because you're a Taurus, baby,” Taeyang plants a kiss in his hair to muffle the last word, but Hwiyoung hears it, and barely manages to suppress a groan. Great, now he's going to have to address the hidden praise kink he knew he had. “Of course you'd cry when someone confessed to you.” Hwiyoung has been confused the whole time he's been here, but Taeyang has baffled him now. He's confessing? That's what this is?

Hwiyoung leans his forehead into Taeyang's chest, allows him to occupy himself by humming, his fingers playing with the hair at the back of his neck while he comes up with a response to that.

“Just because that was my first kiss doesn't mean you have to stay with me now, you know.” Hwiyoung tries to detach himself before he starts to cry again, but Taeyang is making it very hard. He's caging Hwiyoung in again, hands cupping his face gently, turning him to face him, and Hwiyoung settles his hands on Taeyang's shoulders. Before he can protest, Taeyang is connecting their lips once again. It's different this time. The first time it was slow, delicate, gentle, everything that Hwiyoung imagined his first kiss to be. This time it's faster, Taeyang seems a little more desperate, and Hwiyoung is struggling to keep up, but he's trying. Taeyang's hands move to his own on his shoulders and guide them back down to his hips, sliding them up under his shirt. He positions his own against Hwiyoung's jaw, moving carefully, deliberately, and Hwiyoung is feeling too much to focus on reciprocating anything. He's struggling to breathe, his hands unconsciously running up and down the curves of Taeyang's abdomen, and it's so different than he expected. Taeyang slides his tongue over Hwiyoung's bottom lip, and he isn't sure what to do at first, so Taeyang pulls away. Hwiyoung chases after him.

“ _Relax_ , baby. Just follow me, okay? Can you do that for me?” Hwiyoung watches Taeyang's eyes follow his thumb all the way to his lips, feels him tug at his bottom lip, and sees his pupils blow with something completely new. Hwiyoung can do nothing but nod, entirely entranced by the man in front of him. “Good boy.” This time, Hwiyoung _does_ groan before he even realizes it. Taeyang's lips muffle it a bit, but not enough for him not to be embarrassed. Instead of teasing him about it, Taeyang just glides his tongue back over Hwiyoung's lips and smiles when he opens up for him. It's a feeling that Hwiyoung is so unfamiliar with, but he could definitely get used to Taeyang kissing him like this.

He hadn't noticed Taeyang's hands making their way down his chest, or his own hands roaming over Taeyang's beneath his shirt, but he definitely notices when Taeyang pulls away to remove his shirt. Hwiyoung has seen him shirtless plenty of times, of course he has, but never in this context. He's imagined it, sure, but never expected to actually see it in front of him. It's a little overwhelming for his eyes - the glowing skin, the carved lines of his stomach, the tattoo across his ribs that reads “ _you don't count_ ” in some fancy font, and just the fact that it's _Taeyang_. It's a lot.

“Something wrong?” That devilish smile Hwiyoung has seen so many times from Taeyang when he's on stage is gracing his eyes. There's just something different about it that Hwiyoung can't place a finger on. “Nothing,” Hwiyoung's voice doesn't sound like his own, but he doesn't have time to worry about it right now. Taeyang's smile widens and Hwiyoung is breathless for absolutely no good reason. “Kiss me, then,” Taeyang has the nerve to _tease_ him when he's clearly in a state of extreme shock and awe. Oh, well. Hwiyoung is more than happy to oblige him just this once.

Taeyang has a very obvious objective this time, and Hwiyoung is honestly exhausted from trying to figure out what it is each time they dive back in. This time, Hwiyoung decides to wrap his hands around Taeyang's waist and feel as much bare skin as possible, and prays that this won't be the last time he does so. Judging by the way Taeyang is kissing him, he doesn't think it will be. Hwiyoung is eager to move things along though, so he pulls him closer and flips them so he's on top of Taeyang. He looks a little surprised by Hwiyoung's bold move, but he’s definitely doing nothing to stop it.

“Take off your shirt, love,” Taeyang mumbles against Hwiyoung's neck, and he's never had anyone kiss him there - has never had anyone kiss him at all - but he never imagined it to feel the way it does. Under any other circumstance - swimming, working out, any activity that involved sweating, really - Hwiyoung would insist on keeping his shirt on. Obviously, Taeyang mouthing a path down his throat and whispering praises against his skin gives him a confidence that he's never felt. There’s a buzzing behind his ribs, and he's never wanted to bare his skin like this before.

Taeyang wastes no time in pulling his shirt up over his head, quickly ducking down to bite at his collarbones, and there's another kink Hwiyoung has to address now. Taeyang is going to absolutely wreck him if they don’t start moving a little faster. If anything, he’s going to give Hwiyoung a spiritual revelation of some sort. A kink revelation, if you will.

“You're _gorgeous_ , Hwi,” Hwiyoung has already come to terms with this one, thankfully. He allows Taeyang is mark his skin with his teeth, feels his tongue roll back over the mark once he's finished with it, and it's heavenly. “I've really never understood why you're self-conscious. You have absolutely nothing to be self-conscious about, baby. You're perfect,” Taeyang's whispering even though it's just the two of them, but his words are loud and clear in Hwiyoung's ear. He hums, carding his fingers through Taeyang's hair, pulling him up to connect their lips again. Taeyang is breathless, beautiful, and Hwiyoung is convinced he never truly saw all the potential Taeyang's beauty holds until now. He’s been watching him for years, but he’s never really _looked_ at him. Now that he is, there’s something different in Taeyang. He’s darker, more sculpted, every feature is carved out; he appears smaller, and Hwiyoung has the fleeting thought that this Taeyang is a figment of his imagination.

He drags his fingers back and forth over the tattoo, counts the strokes of each letter, lets Taeyang kiss sloppily down his throat. Three, ten, fifteen seconds pass of Taeyang sucking at the same spot beneath his ear before Hwiyoung pushes him back. He sees the veil of confusion pass over Taeyang’s features, but it’s quickly replaced with something else. If Hwiyoung had to put a word to it, it would be frustration, but that doesn’t make sense - Taeyang would never be frustrated with him over something like this. This is unfamiliar territory for both of them; it’s only natural for Hwiyoung to be a little cautious. Isn’t it?

“Something wrong?” Taeyang questions again, but his voice isn’t his. It isn’t the soft, caring timbre Hwiyoung hears so constantly - it’s rough, annoyed, and frightening, to say the least. Hwiyoung stutters on his words, and Taeyang’s fingers dig into his hips when his reply doesn’t come immediately. It _hurts_. Taeyang would never do that - Taeyang would never hurt him out of frustration. Taeyang would never hurt him, _period_. “W-where -” Taeyang raises one perfect eyebrow, urging him to hurry his question along, and that doesn't make sense. Taeyang can’t do that. Hwiyoung has always teased him about not being about to raise his eyebrows very far, and he _knows_ that isn’t something you can just _do_ with practice. “Where’s Seokwoo?” That seems like a safe question; Seokwoo is usually always home by this time, even if he tutors someone after his classes. It seems safe, but Taeyang has a different opinion. “Who fucking cares? I thought you were here for _me_?”

Hwiyoung gasps. Taeyang would _never_ speak of his friends like that.

That’s when it hits him: this isn’t real. It’s a dream - no, a _nightmare_ , and this is _not_ Taeyang. This is not the Taeyang he knows.

Hwiyoung shoves him away with his entire body, rolls over the side of the bed, and crashes onto the floor with a thud. Taeyang’s fingernails drag through the skin of his abdomen as he feels around for his shirt, a strangled scream escaping his throat. “Where do you think you’re going?” Taeyang growls, and that is not his Taeyang. He looks the same, but so different that Hwiyoung doesn’t know how he missed it. His cheekbones are too high, too sunken, his eyes are too dark, he’s too bony, but that’s not the worst of it. Hwiyoung rakes his eyes down Taeyang’s body, stopping still at his ribs. His tattoo isn’t right.

How did he miss that? The ink is too black, the words are wrong, it’s not in the correct place on his side, and Hwiyoung feels like he could vomit. Taeyang just smiles, and it’s _sinister_ the way he looks down at him. Hwiyoung feels his stomach turn as Taeyang laughs, his eyes raking over Hwiyoung’s hunched figure. “You really are a weakling, huh? You look like you’re about to piss yourself just from looking at me,” Taeyang plants his feet on the floor and crouches to face Hwiyoung, leveling him with his eyes. “You’ve always been weak, Hwiyoung. You always will be,” Taeyang traps his chin between two fingers, pulls him closer forcefully, and Hwiyoung can do nothing but stare. The tears he’d kept at bay for so long are clawing up his throat in panic, and his body is screaming at him to _escape_ , to run, to fight, to do _something_. “Look at you,” Taeyang pouts in fake sympathy. Hwiyoung closes his eyes, tries to will Taeyang away from him, but it doesn’t work. _It doesn’t work_.

“So, you’re crying now? You really are a _bitch_ , aren’t you?” Taeyang’s face morphs into something like hatred, something like disgust as he looks down at Hwiyoung. Pure rage flashes across his irises before Taeyang grips his chin, flicks his head sharply the side, and Hwiyoung feels something crack in his neck. A sharp pain shoots through his skull before his body gives out and he collapses on the floor with a silent scream, hands clutching at his throat, eyes bulging in horror. Taeyang drags a finger down his cheek, tracing his jaw and the line of his throat meticulously, and _grins_.

“That’s all you’ll ever be, Hwiyoung. A _weakling_.”

 

[-]

 

_**3:32 AM** _

 

“Hwi, wake up, love,” Hwiyoung has had a lot of nightmares recently, and Taeyang really isn’t sure why. He won’t tell him what they’re about, just that they’re horribly realistic and leave him feeling exhausted. He compared the nightmares to a panic attack once before, which gave Taeyang some semblance of an idea of how to bring him out of it. He figures the best thing he can do is wake him up as gently as possible and offer him a safe shoulder to cry on afterwards. That's what he's attempting to do now.

“Hwi, baby, _please_ ,” It hurts Taeyang to see him like this - face contorted in fear, silent tears streaming down his cheeks. He sits up, cards a hand through Hwiyoung’s hair, and pats the center of his chest with the other. “You’re just dreaming, love. You can wake up; Tae’s right here,” Taeyang runs his hands up and down Hwiyoung’s arms, pinches him at the elbows, and tries to make out the words he’s mumbling. It’s really just unintelligible groans at this point. Taeyang sighs. “I’m sorry, love.” He pinches him a bit harder, careful not to break the skin with his nail, and scoots away in case the sleeping boy comes up swinging.

 

Luckily, Hwiyoung doesn’t swing at him this time. His eyes fly open and his hands dart to his neck in a panic, feeling around his throat as if he’s making sure it’s still there. He lifts his shirt, runs his fingers over his hip bone, and Taeyang just watches and waits. His eyes roam over his skin and finally come to rest on Taeyang, who smiles gently when their eyes meet. “Hey, little star.” Hwiyoung surprises him when he cups his face in his hands, staring straight into his eyes, thumbs caressing his skin. Taeyang lets his hands wander his face and chest for a moment before they come to rest at his hips. Hwiyoung pulls at the hem of his shirt like he’s trying to remember something, and tugs it up suddenly when he finally does. Taeyang gasps at the cool air hitting his bare skin, but relaxes when Hwiyoung traces his fingers over the words inked into his skin. He smiles and tilts Hwiyoung’s chin up to face him, settling his hand against his cheek. “It’s for my mom, remember? It says ‘ _i count you twice_ ’ because, when I count my blessings, I count her twice. Did you forget I had it, love?”

Taeyang says this as gently as possible so as to not upset Hwiyoung, and it's somewhat successful. Still, he leans his head against Taeyang’s chest, hand wrapping around his waist, and Taeyang hears him let out a choked sob. His heart breaks as Hwiyoung clings to him, cries into his shirt, and all he can do his rub his hands over his back and whisper words of safety into his ears. He’s crying so hard that he’s shaking, and Taeyang feels tears gathering behind his own eyes feeling the person whom he loves so much break down against him.

“You’re safe, baby. We’re in my room, Seokwoo is staying with Youngbin for the night, and no one else is here. It’s about 3:30 in the morning, and we’ve been asleep for two-ish hours. But you’re okay. I’ve got you, Hwi,” Hwiyoung had mentioned once that he’s always disoriented after having a nightmare, so Taeyang tries to go over the hours before with him once he’s awake enough. “Your lab was cancelled today, and you came over here right after you got the message. We watched a movie together and ordered take-out. You fell asleep around 1:00 and have been sleeping ever since,” Taeyang feels Hwiyoung nod against his chest, and he presses a kiss into his hair. “I’ve been right here the entire time, Hwi.” Hwiyoung nods again, fists his hands into the back of Taeyang’s shirt, and his breathing begins to even out the more Taeyang rocks them back and forth.

Hwiyoung is practically sitting in his lap with his legs wrapped tight around Taeyang's waist, holding them together as close as physically possible. Taeyang moves one hand to card through Hwiyoung’s hair, tucking the longer strands behind his ear so he can whisper directly into it. “Do you want me to sing for you, Hwi?” He won't speak just yet, but Taeyang is grateful he's responding at all, even if it isn't with words. He nods, and Taeyang gives one more kiss to the crown of his head before beginning to hum softly. He keeps one hand firm on Hwiyoung’s back, feels his chest rise and fall with every even breath until he's completely calm. Taeyang slips his hand beneath his shirt, traces his fingers up and down Hwiyoung's spine, interrupting his humming to whisper more comforting words to him when he shivers. “It's just me, baby. Just Tae,” Hwiyoung just nods, nuzzles his face into Taeyang's neck. His breathing slows and slows until Taeyang is sure he's fallen asleep against him, arms a bit limp around his waist.

He cradles Hwiyoung's head in his hand the same way you would a baby's, and leans him back against the mattress. Taeyang watches his eyes flutter open and smiles when Hwiyoung looks over at him sleepily. “Awake so soon?” He brushes the hair away from Hwiyoung's eyes, pulling him in to kiss his forehead. Hwiyoung's lips curl at the corners, and Taeyang feels an enormous weight lift from his chest. “Missed you.” Hwiyoung's voice is a little raw from crying, but Taeyang doesn't care one bit. He just smiles, and drapes his arm over Hwiyoung's waist, running his hand over the curves of his hips. “I've been here the whole time, love.” Hwiyoung hums, curling himself into Taeyang's embrace, tangling their legs together.

“Let's sleep a little more, okay? I don't want you to be tired all day.” Taeyang suggests. He's pulling the blanket up around their shoulders when Hwiyoung looks up at him suddenly. He doesn't say anything at first, content to just look at Taeyang. There's so much love in his eyes that Taeyang feels like his heart could burst. He is positively _weak_ for this boy.

“Everything okay, Hwi?” Right as he asks, Taeyang is met with a soft kiss against his lips. It's a bit longer than a peck, but just firm enough for Taeyang to call it a real kiss. Hwiyoung's eyes roam his face, his thumb traces the lines under his eyes, and all Taeyang can do is smile. He kisses his forehead one last time, allows his lips to linger there for a moment longer than usual. Taeyang feels the smile reach Hwiyoung's eyes.

“Get some rest, little star.”

Hwiyoung has already reclaimed his place nestled against Taeyang's chest, their limbs tangled together naturally beneath the blankets. Taeyang cards his fingers through the long hair at the back of Hwiyoung's neck, and feels him sigh in content.

“Love you, Tae.”

“Love you too, Hwi.”

[-]

**Author's Note:**

> i'll leave their relationship status up to you ;)
> 
> come yell at me in the comments!!! or on twitter @ straydestroyer!!!
> 
> tysm again for reading & have a beautiful day/night! ♡♡
> 
> ~ cj ♡


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